Be very different people for very different people

The shift starts in daylight and drizzle, and my first pick up is a middle-aged guy who needs multiple stops. The first one is a liquor store, and he's apologetic for the delay and distraught... because he has just, well, lost his mother. Also, he's going to his girlfriend's place, who has also recently, well, lost her mother. 

I do what I can to provide comfort; this is not the first time that I've had a passenger who is vocal about this stage of their grief. My passenger is grateful, tips me with cash that was dearly won, and I do what I can to shake it off.

Next passenger is a post-graduate political science major who attends Princeton University, and needs a ride from the Trenton train station to their off-campus housing. So we have a 20-minute-plus conversation based on the possible incompatibility of social media and true representative democracy, the dangers posed by deepfake technology and artificial intelligence, and other than whiplash levels of cognitive dissonance, we're rolling, we're good.

The entire rest of the shift is like that, because that's how the Rideshare Gods roll sometimes. Chatty foreign national, funny blue-collar waitress, earnest and articulate boarding school student, retiring account executive on a long airport run, and so on, and so on. Shifts like these are rare, lucrative, and cinematic enough to seem more than a little unreal... but if you do the job often enough, they happen. Especially if you can get folks talking. 

Let's just wait this out

One-way single lane road in a bad part of town. It's late at night, and my pick up is a block away.
Likely one of my last rides of the night.

Problem: can't get to them.

Reason why: a couple is having a police-level argument. 

The man of this is in a beat up old minivan. He's trying to load in a couple of bags into the car while having a screaming match with the woman. She is screaming loud enough to be heard in my car, a good 40 to 50 feet away, and punctuating her points by throwing bottles against the side of the van. He tries to respond in kind with throwing bags at the door, so there is a tactical battle going on to see who can get in the more vocal insult and artillery. 

Meanwhile, time passes. There is no safe way to put int into reverse on a one-way street, as I'd be backing up for a solid 2-3 minutes, and making myself conspicuous. 

Besides, they can't just keep doing this, can they? I mean, they are going to run out of stuff to throw at each other. And neither of them is showing any interest in getting close enough to throw hands. I'm also the wrong size, demographic and am not making nearly enough doing this to get out of my car and try to play peacemaker.

Several more minutes pass, and my man finally grumps off, his windows miraculously intact. Either that, or his beloved wasn't angry enough to aim high, and only wanted to dent the minivan. Who knows what the heart wants, really.

I pick up my passenger, drive him to another great place, turn off the app and go home. All while trying to practice gratitude that it didn't get worse, and that I've never been in a big enough argument to engage in traffic-stopping artillery in public. 

Moving on...

You've got to have fear in your heart

Strip mall in west Trenton, three hours into the shift, late for a weeknight but not late. No one's talking, no one's tipping, no one's paying surge price. It's been like this for most of the week, because the Eagles lost the Super Bowl and the region is depressed. Also, it's February. Get in the car, stare at your phone, and make sure your driver is making as little as possible. Not great.

The pick up is two young women, 15 minute ride to a local college. College kids are usually better than most. They want to know how to save time and money on rides, they are a little better at holding a conversation, they tip more often. So I force myself to be a little chattier than usual, try to engage. They respond just enough to make me feel bad for trying, and as the car gets quiet for the final 2/3rds of the ride as they pray to their phones, this track comes up on my iPod. Specifically, the last few minutes of it.

You've got to have fear in your heart / you've got to have fear in your heart...

Have I offended my passengers? Are they going to be the ones that decide to 1-star me, make some specious accusation, or worse? I've been doing this off and on for six years now, over 25K rides. Eventually, you are going to run into some significant problem of a person. Maybe these are the ones.

I roll up to their drop point. They exit cheerfully and politely. Nothing that was going on in my head or the soundtrack was real.

This time.

Pay Me To Talk About Rideshare To Your Group

With hundreds of posts, tens of thousands of rides and 20+ years of presenting findings to groups of strangers via Powerpoint, I can take what I've learned from doing this gig and make you (yes, you!) better at taking rides. It's fun! Entertaining! I'll answer questions and take your money. Probably in that order!

And while it may seem like a small thing to be better at taking rides, let's face it -- doing things well is more fun than doing them badly. Especially when you get to share that expertise with others. Also, funny stories!

Towards that end, I'm now accepting bookings (lucrative, not at all imaginary bookings) to talk to your college, high school, corporation, patrons or hostages (no judgment!) about how to do this better. Just hit the contact box at top right. I'll be glad you did!

Ten Things I Think, But Do Not Say, When People Say "I'll Tip In The App"

 Pwomise, Daddy, pwomise?

As that's a binding verbal contract and you can tip before the ride is over, I'm just going to lock the doors and wait for you to do that.

Lies make Baby Jesus cry.

Please, Kind Sir? I've Been Ever So Good!

The curse of Allah be on him if he is one of the liars.

Great. Now I've got to write down where you live and come back with protestors if you don't. And that giant inflatable rat smells.

OK, but just the tip.

In John 8:44 we learn that liars are "the children of your father the devil and you love to do the evil things he does." Give me cash now, or tip in the app before you leave the car, if you want to avoid eternal damnation.

How much, exactly? I'll be following up. (cracks knuckles)

The spreadsheet that I keep tells me that 93% of the time, you won't. Surprise me.